chapter three
910 Words
Chapter 3: Lines That Shouldn’t Be Crossed
Ethan barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the hallway.
Dim light.
Still air.
Adrian’s voice saying his name like it meant something more than it should.
Go home, Ethan Cole.
It shouldn’t have sounded like that.
Like a command.
Like concern.
Like something deeper hiding beneath control.
Ethan turned in bed for the third time and groaned.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “It was just a coincidence. Just a… awkward reunion.”
But even as he said it, he didn’t believe it.
---
At Blackwood Corporation, morning arrived without mercy.
Ethan reached the office early, determined to act normal.
Professional.
Invisible.
Just an intern doing his job.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
“Ethan, right?” a coworker asked as he entered the marketing department.
“Yes.”
“You’re lucky. First-week interns usually get stuck doing photocopying.”
Ethan gave a small smile. “Guess I got promoted to paperwork instead.”
They laughed.
Normal.
Safe.
Comfortable.
That’s how it should have stayed.
But halfway through the morning, Ms. Harper appeared at his desk.
“Follow me,” she said.
Ethan stood immediately. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.”
That wasn’t comforting.
They walked through corridors Ethan hadn’t seen before—quieter ones, closer to restricted areas.
“Where are we going?” he asked cautiously.
“You’ve been reassigned temporarily,” she replied. “Direct executive assistance.”
Ethan stopped walking.
“…What?”
Ms. Harper didn’t look back. “Don’t question it. It came from above.”
A chill ran down his spine.
Above.
He didn’t need to ask who that meant.
---
Fifteen minutes later, Ethan stood outside a glass-walled office on the executive floor again.
His pulse was already unstable.
Ms. Harper knocked once and opened the door.
“Your temporary assistant, sir.”
Ethan stepped in.
And the world tilted again.
Adrian Blackwood sat behind a massive desk, reading a document with perfect calm.
He didn’t look up immediately.
“Leave us,” Adrian said.
Ms. Harper hesitated for half a second—then left.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
Ethan stood still.
Every instinct in him screamed that this was a mistake.
A big one.
Finally, Adrian looked up.
Their eyes met.
No surprise this time.
No shock.
Just recognition.
Like Adrian had expected this moment.
Ethan cleared his throat. “Sir… I was told I’ve been reassigned.”
“Yes.”
One word.
Simple.
Controlled.
Ethan frowned slightly. “May I ask why?”
Adrian leaned back slightly in his chair.
“You’re efficient,” he said.
“That’s not—”
“And observant,” Adrian continued, cutting him off gently.
Ethan paused.
“…There are better interns than me.”
A faint pause.
Then Adrian said, “Not here.”
Something about the way he said it made Ethan uneasy.
Like it wasn’t about skill.
Like it was about something else entirely.
---
For the next few hours, Ethan worked at the edge of Adrian’s office.
Filing documents.
Organizing schedules.
Answering emails.
Trying very hard not to think about the fact that the CEO was only a few meters away.
Occasionally, he felt it.
That gaze.
Watching him.
But every time he looked up, Adrian was either reading or typing.
Completely composed.
Completely unreadable.
Until—
“Ethan.”
He froze. “Yes, sir?”
“Bring that file.”
Ethan walked over quickly and handed it to him.
Their fingers brushed.
It was brief.
Almost accidental.
But something shifted in the air anyway.
Ethan pulled his hand back too fast.
Adrian noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“Are you uncomfortable?” Adrian asked calmly.
Ethan forced a laugh. “No. Just… focused.”
A pause.
Then Adrian nodded slightly.
“Good.”
That word again.
Simple.
Heavy.
Like it meant more than it should.
---
Later that afternoon, Ethan was leaving the office when Adrian’s voice stopped him again.
“Ethan.”
He turned.
Adrian stood by the window now, city light behind him.
“You were here late yesterday,” Adrian said.
Ethan blinked. “Yes… the elevator malfunctioned.”
A pause.
Then Adrian asked, quieter, “Did you see anyone else?”
Ethan frowned. “No. Just maintenance was probably fixing something.”
Adrian studied him for a moment.
Then nodded.
“Good.”
Again.
That same word.
Ethan hesitated. “Sir… can I ask something?”
Adrian’s eyes lifted slightly. “Go ahead.”
“Why me?”
Silence.
Longer this time.
The kind that pressed against the walls.
Adrian walked slowly back toward his desk.
When he spoke, his voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Because I prefer things I can rely on.”
Ethan frowned. “That still doesn’t explain—”
“Dismissed,” Adrian said gently.
Not harsh.
Not angry.
Just final.
Ethan stopped talking.
He left the office with a strange weight in his chest.
A feeling he couldn’t name.
---
After he left, Adrian remained still.
His gaze fixed on the closed door.
Then, quietly, he opened a drawer.
Inside was something old.
An item carefully preserved.
A small black umbrella.
Faded slightly at the edges.
Adrian stared at it for a long moment.
“…Found you,” he murmured.
And for the first time that day—
his expression finally cracked.
Not cold.
Not controlled.
Something far more dangerous.
Relief.
And obsession.
- Writer
